“Do you love me”
I question myself.
Thinking of you,
It doesn't makes sense.

As many poets come and go,
I am but one;
When I’ve imparted what I know,
My work is done.

I am here just to say “Hello…”,
This niche in time;
To watch the world, to note its flow…
Put it in rhyme.

Whate’er people may think of me –
Good, bad or mad,
At heart I am vibrant and free;
For that I’m glad.

I bid you farewell now, my friend,
Tho’ we may meet
In distant worlds, should this one end –
As old friends greet…

Testing patience is never-
ever a good idea
no matter how great you know a person
you don't really know them
until they snap

And when they snap
their true emotion-
not the fake answers they always give
are shown and feelings are hurt

But can you really blame them?
No, I think not- not when
you are the antagonizer
and this is their self-defense

Come on, you’ve had that thought, that where do I fit in life
I have these crazy dreams, I’m not me but watching through somebody else’s eye
You’re on a bridge in Bristol looking over yonder at a place of make believe
It could be anywhere in your mind and then pops up your mate Steve (hi dream Steve, what you are doing here?)

Yes, you dream all sorts of mad cap ideas which even you don’t understand
But somewhere, in that messed up head of yours, is an idea, so impulsive, so magnificent, so world changing and yet so grand
Dig it out, you know you can, its hiding around a corner just waiting to be unleashed
If it escapes, capture it, feed it, calm it and this my friend will help you on your own two feet

You think I’m crazy? Yeah, probably
But you’re only here once, don’t put it off, this is that lost cog
McCartney dreamt up Let it Be and look what happened to him
Multi-millionaire, annoying as hell, married a one-legged ex *******, no sorry, don’t be like him

But they come, flittering and fluttering whilst disappearing in a jiffy
Those thoughts of ideas, you could change the world, just one of them a gimme
The wheel, the thread, the wind-up radio
Pull it out of that deep dark hole in your brain and there you have it, sold

Now don’t read the rest of this, you’ve got ideas to ignite
Hand that notice in, bye-bye awful boss, its time for me to take flight

As I am that lost cog

JJB

A take on violence

The exiling waves of life
Battered a Syrian child
Swept ashore. We scrolled.
We shrugged this violence.

Eyes glued to a simulacrum of love
Expecting the controlled dominance
Of a filthy rich fictional character
We said: “It’s vanilla.”

Violence as an idea is sweetened
You gulp down the pill
But violence as a means is condemned
You still gulp down the pill.

March 6, 2018
Lyon 1 University

Sea levels rise
And the cruel frigid waters
May one day flood the island of my mind

Give her the seeds
Watch her bloom
She’ll get what she needs
Even if it means your doom

Give her wings
Watch her fly
Dodge the bombings
Where ideas die

Give her water
Watch her swim
To the ends of the earth in a blur
The worlds turning grimm

I guess I'll have to make it up.

    A bird came to me, she did not chirp
    And he did not whisper.
    The wings sheathed on its back                  
    Were in no disrepair.

    Was it blue? How hard to tell, for its
    Skin and coat were of glass, but
    finer.

    This bird a flower.
           So far from bloom.
           So frail i'll keep it, to nurse in
           Gloom.

Not all birds need sun, nor all flowers flight.
But this of mine will soon have both, for mine must wrest day from night.

I'm in a room of mirrors

They're each telling me something different

About myself

The mirror I should listen to

Is the one that reflects my heart